


One Size Fits All

by Sakiku



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, Other, Sex Shop, Sex Toys, Sticky Equipment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakiku/pseuds/Sakiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SalesAssistant!Jazz leads Customer!Optimus through the sex shop he works at, and tries his best to sell some stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Size Fits All

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by a prompt over at tfanon_kink that was about an inversely proportional spike-framesize ratio.

Optimus was not quite certain how he had gotten convinced to pay a visit to Spiker’s Static Hangout, a shop for interface toys with a small oil cafe where interested bots could meet and talk overloads.

He definitely must have made a suitably lost figure when he had entered, because one of Spiker’s shop assistants -- a sleek, white and black mech with an exotic blue visor -- had immediately headed towards him and shown him the wares. ‘The Beginner’s Tour’, according to the mech.

Why hard-core frame modifications belonged to a beginner’s tour, was anyone’s guess.

“Now, this is one of our infamous Spiker’s Supreme Pleasure Enhancers, or spikes for short.” The shop attendant grabbed another mod from a shelf and showed Optimus a triangular panel that was about half as thick as it was wide. Its front was graded so that armor could be fastened to it; its back trailed several energon and circuit docks that would be connected to the protoform.

“Basically, it’s a hydraulic piston covered in plenty of soft malmetal and a search-n-rescue grade sensor suite that will be wired directly to the ventral pleasure cortex. What that means? You vent on it, you’re gonna feel it. You touch it, you’re gonna love it. You actually get down to stroking it or thrusting it into one our valve interface ports -- they’re designed to work with our spikes for maximum pleasure -- and you get beamed away with the sensation. Overload guaranteed.” The mech grinned his wide happy grin that he’d worn throughout the entire guided tour. “Now, how does this thing work? Well, it gets mounted at the junction between your legs, that’s the reason for the triangle shape. You can see here that it’s got a multitude of access points,” the mech pointed to several spots on the back of the panel, “where all the feed lines connect to your protoform, and your sensor net. There’s a lot of them, so you can bet your skid-plate that it’s gonna blow you away the first time you ramp it up to full power.”

Optimus stared at the grey panel skeptically. It was very plain and small for a frame modification that was supposed to be this effective.

The shop attendant’s fields reeked with that practiced friendliness that spoke of having to listen to the same questions and doubts over and over again with every new customer. “Right now it doesn’t look like much ‘cause it’s in its protective casing -- saves space, our special design to make it as light and comfortable as possible, and to hide the mechanics. You shouldn’t even be aware of it when it’s off. But when you give the command, it goes like this.”

The shop attendant pressed a button that had been wired crudely to the back of the panel together with a powercell. At first an electric whine powered up, then a compressor started, the entire front folded away, and with a ratchet-like sound a cylindrical lever sprung up. The malmetal-covered spike, Optimus realized belatedly. It was as long as the panel was tall and nearly as thick, and it reminded him more of a stiff cable than a hydraulic anything. Well, except for the sound. He had almost expected a rebounding ‘doinnnnggg’ as the lever -- spike -- bounced against its vertical hold-position.

“Don’t worry,” the mech seemed to read Optimus’ processors, “the only reason it’s this loud is ‘cause of the mod to make it work on a powercell -- well, that’s a hack you’re guaranteed to never see again. When it’s connected right to a protoform, it can be dialed down to completely silent. It’s gotta be installed by a medic or a frame specialist, and they can adjust it so that it’s as loud or quiet as you want it to be. We’ve actually had customers who _want_ it to make noise, so be sure to tell your installer if that’s the case.”

The shop attendant fondled the shaped cable tip a bit and showed it to Optimus from all sides. “Now, half of the fun of this thing is discovering where it’s the most sensitive, so I’m not gonna show you how to work it. But you don’t look like you’ve had any experience with search-n-rescue grade sensor suites, so I got to tell you one thing: the equipment’s really, _really_ sensitive to pretty much any stimulation from pressure to fields and temperature. So sensitive, in fact, that strong stimulus will go straight through the triangular housing. While that’s exactly what you want to enhance your experience, I always advise my customers to wear armor above it when it’s not in use. Getting hit in the casing when you’ve got no protective plating -- well, ‘ouch’ doesn’t even come close. We do custom armor for better accessibility; or you can use your own. Whatever you want.”

Well, the... spike _did_ sound more interesting than the super-size capacitor for “a charge as long as you’ve got the electrons to run” or the various overload inhibitors or the Pocket Socket - “With twenty different psyche profiles, for a new P’n’p adventure every time!”. How the shop assistant had known Optimus’ tastes might run into the modification direction without Optimus even being aware of it himself, he didn’t know. But he was actually half-heartedly considering buying one of those things. The only thing was -- the entire triangle was maybe as big as the palm of Optimus’ servo, and the spike in its extended state only minimally bigger than his smallest digit.

“So, which sizes do they come in?” he asked, wondering whether he’d want to get one.

“One.”

Optimus looked at the shop assistant questioningly, because he didn’t understand.

The white and black mech chuckled. “What you see is what you get. Simplest concept of them all: One size fits all. No pesky size transformations, no energy requirements out the wazoo, no problem trying to find someone with the fitting equipment. Spiker’s Supreme Pleasure Enhancer is for every bot.”

He rebooted his optics. “Even for microbots?”

“Just three orn ago, I sold one to a tiny symbiont. Spike was as tall as his entire torso and nearly as thick, but I guarantee you it works. And it works with any Spiker valve. Mech was as happy as a Crusta-bot.”

Optimus so did not need that image. Because he was quite sure the shop assistant’s ‘guarantee it worked’ stemmed from verifying it himself. Repeatedly and enthusiastically.

“Want me to show you how it works when it’s installed in a frame?” the shop assistant interrupted Optimus’ attempts to delete the hypothetical image of the microbot with the macro-spike. There was a knowing smirk on the bot’s facial plates, together with an inviting flare of his fields. “My shift’s been over for the past joor, so I’m entirely at your disposal.”

The attendant waggled the ridges above his optics in a way Optimus had never seen a mech be capable of. And of course the mech knew how to position himself in exactly the right way that the lines of his frame led Optimus’ gaze to his groin and the spot where the triangular mod was. It definitely was one of the custom armor jobs, Optimus thought, because he could clearly see a central seam that would only have to part and then the spike casing would be free. The resemblance to the same mechanism a bit further up, the one hiding the spark chamber, was striking.

“And you kept showing me around although you were off work?” Optimus tried to corral his thoughts back on track.

The assistant chuckled. “Why, sure. Delicious bot like you comes in and is such a tough customer to boot -- never let it be said that the Jazz-Meister lets anyone leave unsatisfied. One way or the other. So, how about it? Some entirely unprofessional attraction to your voice, and some strategic, strictly off-duty product placement?”

Optimus finally had to laugh, too. The bot, Jazz, was in a class of his own. “If you insist. You did say that it would be more fun for me to learn to handle a spike myself.”

“Then let’s get to it!” Jazz crowed and tugged him from the shop in the direction of a large motel. “Mech, I thought you were never going to react to all the flirting I was doing. Never seen a bot walk through Spiker’s all unimpressed like you did, ‘cept for the employees of course. That’s impressive as pit. But the spike did it for you, didn’t it? We’re going to have plenty of fun, I promise.”

Optimus simply chuckled and let himself be led along. It was refreshing to do something completely spontaneous and irrational for once.


End file.
